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POEMS.
FORGIVEN.
DREAMED so dear a dream of you last night!I thought you came. I was so glad, so gay.
I whispered, "Those were foolish words to say:
I meant them not. I cannot bear the sight
Of your dear face. I cannot meet the light
Of your dear eyes upon me. Sit, I pray,—
Sit here beside me: turn your look away,
And lay your cheek on mine." Till morning bright
We sat so, and we did not speak. I knew
All was forgiven; so I nestled there
With your arms round me. Swift the sweet hours flew.
At last I waked, and sought you everywhere.
How long, dear, think you, that my glad cheek will
Burn,—as it burns with your cheek's pressure still?
THIS SUMMER.
THOUGHT I knew all Summer knows,I So many summers I had been
Wed to Summer. Could I suppose
One hidden beauty still lurked in
Her days? that she might still disclose
New secrets, and new homage win?
Could new looks flit across the skies?
Could water ripple one new sound?
Could water ripple one new sound?
